"What do we say to the god of death?" His voice had a different sound than normally and Arya shuddered. Nevertheless she answered.
"Not today." She wanted to stay and help him somehow. But she knew that it was impossible. Even Syrio was armed only with a broken wooden training sword. So why did she have a guilty conscience when she turned around and ran away like she was supposed to? Simple: She had only run down a few stone steps when she heard screams. The loudest and the most pained scream came from Syrio and she stopped. No… She couldn't run away, she couldn't… But going back now would be suicide. Therefore she put the torch which she took from a mounting and hid herself in a small alcove, quiet like a shadow. She didn't wait long until she could hear footsteps and three guards were running down the steps next to her. No one of them thought she was stupid enough to stay. Even Arya wondered about her own stupidity sometimes.
When her breath and the crackling of the torches where the only sounds she left her hiding place and ran up the stairs. The situation upstairs was the worst she'd ever seen. Syrio Forel lie in an enormous puddle of blood. Arya tried to make out the most dangerous wounds, but there where to many of them. She didn't pay attention to the blood she was standing in and kneeled down next to him. Her breathing was too fast and she didn't dare to feel his pulse because she was frightened of the result.
"I told you to go" His voice was brittle and the view the look in his brown eyes was painful and anxious.
"Yes, but I…" She swallowed empty. What was she doing? Had she come back to help him? And now all she could do was watch him die.
"Go", he said once again and tried to make her going away with a pleading look in his eyes. But Arya didn't move herself a centimetre from the stain. Too much happened in the past days, she couldn't let him die.
"Not today", she replied the words which he taught her during the last weeks. "You always said that, so remember it!" His pleading look turned into amusement and sadness the same time.
"You can avoid the god of death for a long time, but not forever. You have the chance to escape, so go." Arya ignored his pleading view and looked instead to the blood which was spread all around him. It was her fault. If she had gone with the Kings guard Syrio wouldnt have had to fight and wouldn't be hurt, wouldn't be dying.
"No!" It seemed like he read her mind." With his still gloved hand he forced her to look at him. "Arya, no matter what happens don't blame yourself for this. It was my decision to fight against Trant and the other guards." Syrio had difficulties to speak; Arya was wondering anyway because he was still able to speak. After a short break he continued with with his speech. "If you don't want me to die pointless go somewhere you are safe." She hadn't the force to respond something, her resistance was broken. But before she stood up, she bended and embraced him. She tainted herself with blood but she didn't care. He returned the embrace as as week as he was now and smiled encouraging before she finally disappeared trough the door.
Syrio Forel died alone but he knew he did´nt gave up his life for nothing.